200 Points - A Draco Malfoy Story

Chapter 3

My heart sinks.

Of all people, it had to be Draco Malfoy?

I could not think of a worse person to spend my free time with, let alone help.

Sprout senses my reserve, and seems to understand.

"Marianna, I understand it may be a tough undertaking for you. Because of this, I am willing to award you 50 points to your house at the end of it, and 200 if he successfully passes the class."

I breathe in sharply. 200 points? That could seriously put Ravenclaw in the running to win the House Cup this year.

Ravenclaw has not once won the House Cup during my time at Hogwarts, so the chance at being the reason that we do is too tempting to pass up.

"I'd be happy to," I hear myself saying.

"Lovely! Lovely, I'll tell Severus to have Malfoy meet you this afternoon in the library, does half past 7 work for you?"

I nod wordlessly, my stress already slowly mounting in anticipation. My mind darts back to last night, and Harry's black eye, and I shiver.

Its for 200 points, I remind myself. Do it for your house.

*****

The rest of the day flies by, and soon enough, it's dinner. I haven't told my friends yet about who I'm tutoring, because I'm certain their disapproval will talk me out of it. I couldn't face Professor Sprout again if I backed out of our agreement, so I decide to keep it to myself.

Clearly I'm giving away some sort of signal of unease, however, because Luna places a hand on my arm and asks what's wrong. I assure her repeatedly that it's nothing, and eventually she shrugs, and turns to talk to Cho.

I shift my attention across the hall, and toward the Slytherin table. I seek out a certain blond boy, and examine him with interest. He's engaged in a seemingly heated discussion with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. He's not dressed in his house uniform, but instead in an all black suit.

I scoff to myself. Of course the Draco Malfoy is too cool for a school uniform.

His head turns slightly, and I quickly turn away. The last thing I want is for Malfoy to think I have any sort of interest in him.

Do I have an interest?

I question myself. I'm feeling that weirdness which I felt the night before, which had been inexplicable at the time, but now I recognised as a sort of jittery excitement.

Was I truly excited to see Draco Malfoy?

I look behind me toward the Gryffindor table, and make eye contact with Ron. He grins widely, and I smile back. And what's going on with Ron? Am I reading too much into it?

My head is positively spinning as dessert disappears off the table, signalling the end of the feast. Harry, Ron, and Hermione start to head over to Luna and I. I jump up, grab my bag, mutter a quick excuse to Luna and rush out.

I can't go through any questioning or weirdness with Ron before the bigger task at hand.

*****

I'm in the library before him, which is no surprise as I had all but sprinted there.

I arrange my books on an empty table. Then rearrange them, Then put them back in my bag, so as not to appear too eager. I'm just starting to put them out again when the door to the library creaks open.

He's here.

I do a little half wave to signal that I'm the person he's looking for, and he walks over and plops down beside me, stretching out his legs on the table before us. His sense of entitlement is almost palpable, and I find myself already getting annoyed.

"So," I start, as he doesn't say anything, "I'm Marianna Bane, and I'm-"

"I've never seen you around before Bane, are you new to Hogwarts?" Draco cuts me off with a smirk.

I flush with anger. He very well knows that I'm in his year, and have been since we were 11. He's just trying to get a reaction out of me. What he doesn't know is that I have a very level temper, and it takes a lot to push me over the edge.

"No, I'm not, are you?" I reply, smiling sweetly. I don't know where this newfound confidence is coming from, but it does seem to throw Malfoy slightly off guard.

He scoffs. "You know who I am," he replies, stretching his arms back behind his neck, "Everyone in this dump knows who I am."

I refrain from rolling my eyes. The excitement I had felt earlier was already wearing thin. I had to remember who I was working with here. Sure, he's attractive, but he's also a massive git, who doesn't care about anyone. He doesn't deserve my niceties.

"I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure," I retort, and aggressive flip open my Herbology textbook.

"No, you certainly have not," Malfoy replies lazily, cracking a half smile.

I flush a deep shade of crimson, and curse my Scottish genes. My face always gives me away.

I decide to ignore his last comment, and half shove my textbook in front of him.

"Look, you don't have to like it, but I'm here to teach you Herbology. Without me you fail. So if you don't want to graduate, be my guest, walk out the door," I huff, scowling at him. So much for my level temper.

Malfoy mutters something under his breath about "not needing to graduate," but he reluctantly swings his legs off the table and takes the textbook.

"Fine, have it your way, Bane. No fun it is."

*****

An hour and a half later, we had gotten a surprising amount of work done. When he put his mind to it, Malfoy was actually quite a good student, and I was beginning to wonder how he could have failed this class twice.

He seemed to sense this confusion, and spoke to me first this time.

"I've failed this class because I couldn't possibly care about something less than blooming plants," he scoffs, pushing his textbook away in frustration.

I let out a small snort.

"What," he demands, "Could possibly be funny, Bane?"

"It's just -" I can barely get the words out without another chuckle "- I just think it's funny that you say you don't care about Herbology, when it seems like you don't care about anything! I mean, clearly not even a uniform? Where does the distinction lie?"

I chuckle again, and his scowl deepens.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Marianna. I care about a lot of things, and you have no idea." His jaw is tightly clenched, and I flinch as he suddenly pushes away from the table.

"I think we're done for today," he says briskly, and then he's gone.

Suddenly left alone in the library, I stay seated, and wonder what I could have possibly said to offend a boy who cares about no one.